Leave a Mark (11 page)

“Hello? Everything’s in the file drawer where it should be.”

Rocky brought his attention back to Angel’s wings. “I have a system of piles. You may not like it, but until you buy this place and retire me for life or leave and run me out of business, I’m still the boss.”

Wren grabbed the album closest to her and began flipping through the pages in a huff, too quickly to study the tattoos.

Rocky tsked. “What is your problem? You’ve been a little shit all week.”

She didn’t look up or mount a defense; Rocky was right, and she could always count on him to speak the truth. She had been a little shit. Edgy. Sour. Distracted. But even though Rocky was right, she wasn’t about to explain why.

“Sorry… I just need to clear my head,” she muttered.

“Well, go home,” Rocky told her. “You’ve already worked a full shift, and things are slow today.”

She sighed. “I really don’t want to go home." She staggered to her empty station and slumped onto her table.

Rocky’s cell rang. He checked the screen and pulled off a latex glove before picking up the phone.

“Hey, babe.”

Shelby,
Wren thought with a smile. She wouldn’t mind talking to
her —
if the woman ever had a free moment. With Amy, Sarah, and Emily, Rocky’s wife was always in the car headed somewhere — soccer, play dates, doctor’s appointments. On top of that, Cherise hadn’t been able to meet for their usual Thursday breakfast that morning, and Wren was missing her girl-talk fix.

Even though she didn’t relish the idea of sharing her pie-mortification story, she needed another woman’s perspective. Wren had
thought
there was something between her and Lee. The signals had been there. Hadn’t they? Every time they talked, they’d flirted a little. And better than that, they’d
connected.

Or so she thought.

Maybe she’d misread everything. His smiles. His attention. His obvious delight when they’d bumped into each other at Albertsons.

“Well, I can’t do it right now. I’m in the middle of a job…” Rocky was telling his wife.

Wren’s ears perked up. If Shelby needed a favor, maybe she could help her out and have a chance to catch up with her afterward. She needed to talk to somebody, and Cherise worked until eleven tonight. If Shelby couldn’t spare her a few minutes, Wren thought she just might go camp out at Agave bar and steal whatever free time Cherise had.

Wren had replayed the awful visit to Lee’s house a thousand times in her mind. It wasn’t like her to be so hung up on a guy. If she was interested in someone, and he wasn’t available or the feeling wasn’t mutual, Wren just moved on. No drama. No sweat. She’d never spent days thinking about a man. For that matter, she’d never made pastries for a man, either.

And she wasn’t just thinking about him. She was pissed at Lee Hawthorne. If he was with someone else, why had he looked at her as if he wanted to know everything about her? He’d given her that look when he left her apartment the day he took her home, and it had been the same before they parted at the grocery store.

But what she couldn’t forget was the way he gazed at her from his front yard. Barefoot. Shirtless. His hair curling in the evening breeze. He’d looked at her as if she held a piece of his heart in her hands.

“I know we need to find homes for them, but maybe he could come another night…” Rocky sounded frustrated.

Wren hopped off her table and moved around him until he faced her. “I can help if you need a hand,” she hoarse whispered.

Rocky’s eyes lit up. “Hang on, Shel." He covered the phone and looked at her with hope. “Really? It might take a while.”

“I don’t care,” Wren promised. “What do you need?”

Rocky smiled. “Will you go by the house? Shelby’s taking the girls to ballet, and some guy wants to come over to look at one of Millie’s pups.”

THE PERRODINS LIVED
across Johnston Street in Arbolada, the neighborhood that hugged the south end of the UL campus. It was Thursday, so Wren had her bike. Now, eager for anything to do, she grabbed Rocky’s house keys, jumped on her beach cruiser, and made the short trip to her boss’s house.

She’d been there half-a-dozen times since Millie, the family’s sweet-natured golden retriever, had her litter. Rocky had been furious when the dog turned up pregnant. As an AKC-registered golden, he’d intended on breeding her in the fall, and he’d kept her kenneled while she was in season, but some sneaky dog must have made his way in.

Wren loved to tease her boss about the illegitimate litter, but even as Rocky grumbled whenever he saw the mismatched brood of golden and black puppies, she knew he thought they were over-the-top cute. Judging by their crimped and curly coats, their sire was probably the black standard poodle that lived across the street.

With her bike parked by the back gate, Wren let herself into the yard. Now that the seven puppies were old enough to wean, Rocky had erected a pig-wire fence around Millie’s kennel. This gave the litter a little more space to run and play, and as Wren approached, all seven furballs scampered to the fence to greet her.

“Hey, baby,” she sang, reaching down to scoop up her favorite, the fat, golden male she’d secretly named Victor. The puppy was in love with her. She was sure of it. He was always the first to run up to her when she visited. Wren didn’t care that he did the same thing with everyone else. Victor loved. Period.

She cradled the little guy in one arm and scratched his belly with her free hand. The pup went limp, his eyes staring up at her as though she were The Great Belly-Scratch Goddess. Wren laughed as someone knocked on the wooden fence.

Millie charged out of the kennel and cleared the pig-wire fence, barking the whole time. The puppies went wild, plastering themselves against the fencing, wailing and barking for their mother. Victor squirmed in her arms to be put down so he could join his brothers and sisters in sounding the alarm.

“Okay, okay.” Wren set the pup down and brushed off her shirt. “Coming!”

Millie waited by the gate, barking steadily and wagging. “Hush, Millie!” Wren scolded. “Sit." The dog gave a whine, but she obeyed, and Wren opened the gate, an apology perched on her lips — until she saw him.

“What the hell?!" She stepped back.

“Oh my God…” Lee stepped forward, the wonder on his face likely rivaling the horror on her own. “What are you doing here?”

Wren’s brows jumped. “Me? I’m helping my boss.” She retreated another step before planting her feet and scowling at him. She refused to be embarrassed in front of him again. He’d seen her nearly naked and helpless in the ER. He’d seen her stranded and alone outside the hospital. But neither low point touched the shame she’d felt when he’d looked at her with pity on his doorstep. She refused to be embarrassed, yet she still was. And it made her angry. “What are
you
doing here?”

Lee blinked. “I want a puppy.”

His look of innocence enraged her. He wasn’t innocent, and he wasn’t supposed to be here. And no one should be allowed to look so flawlessly handsome and flirt and linger and talk about their mothers while secretly dating flawlessly gorgeous bitch queens.

“Well, you can’t have one." The words were out before she could stop them, and she felt a little surge of adrenaline at the outburst. Could she really deny him a puppy? What would she say to Rocky and Shelby?

Lee’s blue eyes lit with amusement, and the beginnings of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “I can’t?”

He was going to laugh at her. Again. Wren wanted to punch him in the throat.

“No,” she said, and, because it sounded extra lame, she folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

He stepped forward again, this time into her personal space, and the amusement in his eyes turned to warmth. To her dismay, Wren sensed that Lee could read everything behind her dark look.

“You may not be glad to see me, Wren, but I’m so glad to see you.” The heat in his gaze made her swallow, so she frowned harder. “I wanted to thank you for the pies. That was the kindest gift I’ve ever received.”

Wren took another step back. He was too close, and his words were too easy to believe. She wanted to accuse him. To condemn him. To launch herself into his arms. To burst into tears. Instead she forced her expression to go blank.

“No thanks necessary.” She shrugged. “It was no big deal.”

“It was a big deal to me,” he said, pinning her with earnest eyes. “And they were delicious. They tasted just like my mom’s, and she’s been gone since I was ten.”

Ouch.

She watched him swallow this time, old grief pinching the corners of his eyes. If she wasn’t careful, his sadness might melt her ire. Clearly, Wren couldn’t trust herself around Dr. Hawthorne. She needed to be done with this so she could get some distance.

“I’m glad you liked them.” She meant to sound detached, but she heard the softening in her own voice. Wren pressed ahead. “So, do you want a puppy?”

The sadness in his eyes cleared, and he arched a brow. “You mean, I can have one now?” His amused look was back.

“If it means we can go our separate ways sooner? Yes," Wren said, refusing to crack a smile.

He still smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Lee held her gaze. Seconds passed, and her heartbeat quickened.

“Please don’t be mad at me.” His voice dropped to a near whisper that pulled at her, but it was the regret in his eyes that made her knees go weak. “That’s the last thing I want… I’m sorry I—”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” she said, primly, pushing down the urge to reach up and touch his cheek. She ripped her gaze away and walked to the puppy pen.

“I think I do.” He followed right behind her.

Wren ignored him. “Did you want a male or a female?”

They had reached the pig wire, and all the puppies ran to them. Millie leapt back in with her litter, and some of the puppies gamboled to her. But not Victor. He jumped up and placed his curly paws on the fencing.

“Male, I think." Lee bent down, scooped up Victor, and brought him to his chest, smiling down at the adorable dog. “Hey, little guy. What about you? Would you like to come home with me?”

Yes,
Wren thought with a pang.

“You can’t have him.” Her words were for herself as much as they were for him.

Lee glanced back at her, still nuzzling the puppy. “Why not?” he asked, frowning.

He looked so unbelievably cute cuddling with Victor, Wren couldn’t stand it.

“Because he’s my favorite,” she blurted.

“Oh, are you going to take him?” Lee started to offer the dog to her, clearly ready to give him up.

“No. I can’t take him. Agnes would never allow it.”

“Oh.” He brought Victor back to his chest, and the puppy licked his chin. “Has someone else already claimed him?”

“No.”

Lee frowned again. “Well, then why can’t I have him?”

Wren was merciless. “Because you don’t deserve him.”

Lee’s eyes bugged. “Why not?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Victor needs someone who will be loyal to him.”

“I
am
loyal,” he said, frowning.

It was Wren’s turn to arch her brow.

“What? You think I’m not loyal because I took you home? Because I talked to you in the grocery store?" For the first time, he sounded angry. He wasn’t alone.

“
Talked
to me? You
flirted
with me,” she threw back. “Does your girlfriend know that?”

Lee narrowed his eyes and stepped into her personal space again. Victor looked at her and wagged.

“I didn’t plan to flirt with you. I don’t do that. I just—” Lee clamped his mouth shut, and Wren could see the tendons and muscles around his jaw flexing as he grit his teeth.

“You just what?” Even as she accused, she watched Victor turn back into Lee’s chest and press his nose inside his shirt collar, sniffing wildly. It looked like fun.

“I just wanted to keep talking to you.” Lee blinked twice, and his voice lowered. “I still do.”

Whoa.

It was like being splashed with warm water. The surprising heat spread across her chest and shoulders. She let herself look at him for a moment. His expression was a contradiction of happiness and regret. Lee still snuggled Victor close to him, lightly scratching behind the puppy’s neck, but his eyes never left her.

Unlike water, the splash held its warmth, but she couldn’t let herself luxuriate in it any longer. Wren moved her eyes to Victor, who yawned and rested his chin on Lee’s shoulder.

“He really likes you,” she conceded.

Lee smiled and looked down at the puppy pressed to his chest. “He feels awesome.”

Wren nodded. “I know." Then she sighed. “Fine. You can keep Victor.”

“Victor?” Lee’s eyes lit again.

Wren shook her head, embarrassed. “It’s just the name I gave him.”

“I like it,” he said, smiling down at the puppy. “Why Victor?”

She felt her face flame. Would he think she was dumb? Wren waved the notion away. He probably already thought she was crazy. What did it matter?

“It’s from this sci-fi show I like. Victor’s this love-sick pawn in this shady hi-tech corporation that wipes people’s memories and reprograms them to be whatever they w—”